Hello, I'll Be Your Waiter
by j'adore macabre
Summary: "Tony looked up and his heart stopped. He was staring up at a familiar face that was far less hungry and lean than last he saw it. When asked for his name, the waiter smiled and replied, 'Freddie'." Two years after the battle, Loki seemingly has no memory of himself as a god and Tony's goal is to find out if it really is the god or an unfortunate look-alike. Frostiron
1. Chapter 1

_Let us remember that reviews make me happy. It's like a reward for time and effort I put into this. Please, when you've finished, take a few seconds to leave a review. Thoughts, comments, concerns and all that. It takes less than a minute but means a lot. _

_~JM_

Tony sat down at the restaurant table, his phone in hand and scrolling through the abridged business proposal Pepper had sent him. The restaurant was dimly lit with large overhanging chandeliers and filled with the quiet chatter of patrons. It was all a bit stuffy for the billionaire. He wasn't keen on the place but had promised Pepper he would meet with a potential investor for one of his charity programs. As it had happened, he was already close by the designated meeting place and decided on a drink before he was bored with small talk.

"Excuse me," he heard the high-pitched voice of an elderly woman say from behind him. "But did you know that you look remarkably similar to the man from the attack on the city, the one who was flying overhead."

Tony shifted in his seat, arm thrown over the back. He turned his head to look back and opened his mouth to reply but soon realized that she wasn't talking to him. The lady was speaking to a waiter who had his back to Stark. All the billionaire saw was a tall thin frame and close cropped, slightly curled black hair that had been brushed back. The waiter was taller than all the Avengers but Thor and built nothing like any of them. Tony thought perhaps it was just something in the face or that the old lady was thinking of a misplaced police officer.

The waiter gave a soft laugh. "You're not the first to tell me so. It is an unfortunate resemblance but the only one we share in common, I think."

It was the English accent that sent a sneaking suspicion crawling down Tony's spine. But he tamped it down and went back to his phone.

"Thank goodness," the lady said. "You must get a dozen of people pestering you about it. Such awful business." She tutted.

"Only a few," the waiter replied. "And it was absolutely tragic, I agree. Now, is that everything for tonight?"

"Oh, yes. Sorry to have stopped you."

"It's no trouble at all."

Tony felt the waiter move to stand beside his table, and when he looked up his heart stopped. He was staring up at a pair of sea-green eyes that resembled stained glass windows and a familiar face that was far less hungry and lean than last he saw it.

"Mr. Stark?"

Tony blinked and he realized Loki—the waiter had been talking.

"Are you alright?" the waiter asked. "Can I get you a glass of water?"

"No, can you give me a minute?"

Loki-the waiter gave an easy smile. "Of course."

But as this man that so resembled Loki began to walk away, Tony said, "wait."

The man turned around and, when Tony asked for his name, he replied, "Freddie."

As soon as he left, Stark took up his phone again and held it to his ear after dialing a familiar number.

"Hey, Pep, I need you to cancel the meeting."

"Tony, no," she cried incredulously. "You can't keep skipping meetings. You have to meet with him. It'll only take an hour."

"Then you come. You're better at this anyway," Tony whispered as he kept an eye on 'Freddie'. "Something's come up."

There was a beat of silence before she asked, "What's her name?"

"Freddie," he replied easily.

"Freddie like Winifred or…"

"Frederick. Maybe Manfred. But it's definitely Freddie."

He could hear her take the phone away long enough to make a noise of frustration before she said, "I can't fill in for you just because you decide to try and sleep half the men in New York now."

"I feel like you're judging me."

"I'm not—"

"I still have standards, you know."

"Tony, I'm not judging."

He went on as if she never spoke. "I don't like to be judged, Pep," he tried to sound hurt. "Besides, can't I sleep with whoever I want without fear that my _friends_ will ostracize me?"

"No one's—you know what? Fine." Pepper gave a huff of resignation. "I'll do it but you owe me."

Tony couldn't suppress a grin. "Have I ever told you what a vision of open-mindedness you are?"

Freddie came back as Stark hung up and gave the billionaire a genuinely sincere smile. "Is there anything I can get you?"

"Yeah, uh, what time do you get off?" Tony asked with a slightly strained smile.

"Um, sorry, why do you ask?"

"Just curious. Have you been here long?"

Freddie looked a bit confused. "_Here_, Sir?"

"New York. America."

"About a month. I'm sorry, I don't—"

"So, how'd you get here, Loki?" Stark asked with his most innocent expression.

Freddie blinked a few times. "If you'd like, I can get you another waiter."

"No," Tony replied as he leaned back in his chair to seem more relaxed. "It looks like my dinner date has been cancelled." He rose to his feet, watching as the other stepped back politely to give him space. "I was hoping you'd fill that opening."

A sudden blush reddened Freddie's ears and colored his cheeks. "I—I'm sorry—"

"You know that's the third time you've apologized."

"Sorry. It's a habit, I suppose.

Tony reached in his pocket and pulled out a business card, writing his number on the back before he handed it to the other. "I really would like to get to know you better. Platonically, if you want," he added at the other's look of hesitation.

The waiter looked at the card, running his thumb over it before he looked back up at the billionaire with genuine curiosity. "Why me?" His eyebrow lifted in question, his whole expression lighter than Tony remembered Loki's being.

"Because I'm interested. I find you interesting."

"I'm just a wa—" A spark of understanding came to the cerulean eyes with a hint of disappointment in the small smile playing on his lips. "It's because I look like that man that attacked the city." He handed the card back with a touch of unhappiness. "I'm sorry to disappoint you, Mr. Stark, but I am just a man."

And maybe he was. Maybe this man really did have the misfortunate to look remarkably similar to a particular god of mischief. Even as Tony thought this, he did not hesitate to slip a small tracking device into the pocket of Freddie's trousers as he stepped close to shake his hand.

The billionaire sat in his car, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel as he watched the restaurant. From his seat, he could see Pepper entering and felt a small amount of relief he dodged another boring meeting. It was maybe an hour before she walked out with an older, rotund gentleman in a well-tailored suit. Another hour went by before the Loki look-alike exited with only a thin jacket against the winter chill. But Freddie didn't get into a car. He walked for a bit and Stark waited until he was out of sight before he drove off in the opposite direction.

Stark know the ins and outs of the streets like he knew every wire and chemical balance of his Arc Reactor. He went around until he got to the street Freddie was on so he was on the opposite side when he came to a stop.

"Hey, Freddie, right?" Tony asked as he rolled down his window.

The waiter narrowed his eyes in the gloom and, looking both ways, came up to bend slightly to look at Tony. "One would think that you're stalking me, Mr. Stark."

"Tony, please." Stark grinned.

Freddie shook his head with an endearing smile. "While I'm flattered Iron Man is following—"

"Following?" The billionaire did his best to look hurt. "I was just _driving _around. My date cancelled remember?"

The waiter gave a knowing look. "So to what do I owe the honor of you stopping where I just happen to be walking?"

"It's cold out. Why don't I give you a lift?"

"I don't—"

"Look, it's cold. Call it an apology for earlier."

Freddie sighed. "You're very persistent." He hunched his shoulders as a cold wind blew and his eyes gave the passenger seat a brief glance.

Tony shifted and caught the other's gaze. "Look, my gas is going so you can let me give you a lift or I can go grab some hotdogs off a cart down the street."

At the mention of food, Freddie's stomach gave a long growl and his cheeks reddened.

"Or," Tony continued, "you can take me up on that offer to be my dinner date."

Another gust of wind seemed to make up the other's mind. "I don't suppose you would need to put me in a tub of ice and sell my organs on the black market," he murmured.

"Nope. I'll just add them to my Hannibal collection," Tony quipped with a grin. "So, dinner then?" He asked as Freddie slipped into the passenger seat.

"I don't want to be a bother."

Stark looked at him with mild amusement. "We just got out of a five star restaurant so that's obviously not your thing. What would you like? Drive-thru, bar, shawarma?"

"Um…" Freddie looked nervous as he rubbed his palms on his thighs. "Would you mind if we got something from the shop down the street?"

"Tell me where to go." Tony put the car in drive.

Freddie gave him directions and made him stop in front of a tiny hole in the wall. There was no sign, just a narrow door jammed between a large bakery and a consignment store. The billionaire leaned over, nearly on Freddie's lap as he looked out the window, nose wrinkled as he looked for something to signify the existence of a restaurant.

"This is a restaurant?" he questioned.

"Sort of. Would you like to come in and see what they have?"

"Nah," Tony handed him a card. "I'll have whatever you're having."

The blush came back to color the tips of the waiter's ears. "It's alright, I've got it."

"I insist. I'm not letting you pay for it, and no, you can not say otherwise."

"You're really just going to hand me your card?"

"Would you like my wallet?" Tony asked with a hint of sarcasm.

Freddie sighed and left with the card, nearly twisting sideways to enter into the small door. And while he was gone, Tony thought to himself that this was perhaps the most insane and reckless plan that he ever had. Except it wasn't a plan. There was just a vague sense of curiosity that was similar to poking a sleeping bear. For some strange reason, Tony had no problem driving around with what may or may not be a homicidal maniac with a penchant for world domination. But if he went to Fury, then this potentially harmless Loki look-alike in all probability gets interrogated. It didn't seem right. Why would Loki-if-Loki work at a restaurant Tony hardly went to?

"Here we are." Freddie came back with bursting take out containers in bags and the car was instantly filled with the heavy robust smell of Caribbean cuisine.

"You didn't use the card, did you?"

"I, uh…how did you know?"

"Because you moved your wallet. It was in your jacket, now your pocket." Tony gave a sad shake of his head in feigned disappointment as Freddie handed his card back. "What did you get?"

The other man looked apologetic. "I don't know if you like it."

"Listen, as long as you didn't get half-developed goose eggs, I think I'm good."

Freddie bit his lip nervously. "Oh, I thought you'd enjoy them. I'm sorry."

Tony look slightly horrified as he peered cautiously in to the bag. "You didn't…?"

"Of course not." Freddie grinned mischievously. "I don't think I've ever seen balut here. No, I got rice, fried plantains, and…I'm sorry, do you eat pork?"

"If you apologize one more time," Tony warned humorously with a stare.

"Sor—Ok."

"Yes, I eat pork."

Freddie absentmindedly tapped his thumb against the bag. "There's not really a table…"

"I'm alright going back to your place."

The waiter seemed to nearly choke on air. "My…_my_ place? I don't—"

"I _was_ going to drop you off there anyway."

Seeming to steel his nerves, Freddie took a breath and nodded once. "Alright then. I suppose if you're so keen on it."

They pulled up in front of an old apartment building with a rusted, broken security fence and an old door with peeling faded red paint.

"I really don't think you should leave you car out here," Freddie looked apologetic as he took his lower lip between his teeth and stared at the barely lit street. "They tend to steal a lot of cars around here."

"If they can manage it then they can have it."

Giving a sigh of long enduring patience, Freddie got out the car and led the way through the door, up a narrow staircase that was filled with the faint scent of cigarette smoke. He stopped on the fourth floor and dug in his jacket pocket to produce a small key.

"It's not really all that clean," he said before he opened the door. But at Tony's stare of expectation and slight smile, he opened the door with a faint creak. He let Tony enter first and closed the door.

Tony stepped in the center of the tiny kitchen space, hands shoved in his pockets. "I like it."


	2. Chapter 2

_This is a bit shorter but I didn't want to cut into the next scene I'm working on or make it painfully long. Don't forget to take a few seconds to review when you're done. Too everyone who has: thank you. It really does mean a lot.  
_

_~JM_

Freddie set down the bags of food on the small kitchen island which seemed more of a slightly larger nightstand with cabinet space beneath. He paused, nervously taking his bottom lip between his teeth as he glanced at Tony before he removed his jacket to drape it over one of the two stools at the island. Hooking a finger under the knot of his tie, he loosened it and went on to undo the top button of his shirt.

Tony watched him from the corner of his eye as he pretending to peruse the overflowing bookshelf in the corner of the room. He imagined the Loki he knew in a tie and vest waiter's outfit and it troubled him profusely. Things were suppose to be clear cut in this good versus bad. Loki was supposed to be evil— hell, he _enjoyed_ it. The god wouldn't just drop to Earth to take people's orders with a smile. Everyone knew Loki greatest goal was to create chaos. But here he was, reaching up to take plates from the cupboard and set them along with silverware beside the takeaway carts of food. Or it could have been someone that just looked remarkably like him, down to the eyes that changed in the light from blue to green and somewhere in between.

Loki—_Freddie _caught Tony's eye and the billionaire faced him and said without thought, "You don't have a TV."

It was true. From what Stark could see, the small apartment was nearly Spartan in appearance. It had a two-seater couch with a duvet thrown over the back pushed against the far wall, a small window to the right of it. To the right, was a large bookshelf whose bulk seemed to take up much of the wall yet was still overflowing with books. Beside the bookcase was a small stand that held an old record player, boxes filled to the brim with records beneath.

Freddie looked thoughtful for a moment as he leaned against the island, it was almost as if he just realized it. "I didn't need one."

Tony stood there expressionless for a brief second before he went to the island and leaned against it, opposite Freddie. "I need you to answer me honestly," he said in all seriousness.

The waiter crossed his arms on the counter and nodded once, "Alright, what do you want to know?"

"Have you been sent here by an alien race to subvert our government and establish a televisionless society?" Tony asked, trying to tamp down a smile but not quite succeeding. "Look, I think I should know now before we start breaking bread."

Freddie leaned close and, for a second Tony remembered how close Loki was just seconds before he was thrown out of a window, it made his heart thump painfully in his chest. But Freddie merely replied, "I wouldn't know." He pushed away from the island and crossed over to the refrigerator, opening the door with a small grimace. "Sorry, I only have bottled water and soda."

"Now, wait a minute." Tony straightened. "What do you mean you wouldn't know?"

"You asked for honesty. It's too long a story."

"That's what people say when they don't want to take about it."

Freddie was so still it was as if some internal mechanism had just shut down. Then he set down two bottles of soda with a smile that didn't reach his eyes before he went to the old record player. He knelt and started to flip through the piles of records, coming up with well worn, yellowed paper case. Another small, sad smile came to his lips as he held up the record. "I don't suppose you'd like to listen a little Billie Holiday."

Tony wanted to get back to before, wanted to know just what he meant. But the billionaire only said, "I never heard her."

"Really?" Freddie's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"I'm more of and ACDC and Black Sabbath fan myself."

"Oh, you'd love her," Freddie promised. "Her voice…it's got this almost rough quality, beautifully sad, like a trumpet that's been muted. But it's so wonderful. She never sings the same song the same way. It's absolutely…"

And as he talked, he grew passionate and lively. A spark of joy in his sea green eyes and his free hand gestured through the air to get his point across. Tony felt he could not have been more wrong. Loki was all still and methodical, planning every move for maximum benefit. He was very nearly could have been anger incarnate. But Freddie was lively and animated, soft spoken and polite. Though their eyes were strikingly similar, they were also vastly different. When Loki stared at him, Tony had the vague feeling of prey being stalked. Freddie looked at Stark with interest, curious as to what made him function emotionally and mentally. He seemed to care.

"Would you like to listen?"

The corner of Tony's mouth turned up in a smile. "Sure."

Freddie set the record to playing, Holiday's rough and tender voice filled the room and there was a sudden marked difference in Freddie's demeanor. He was more relaxed and confident. And as they sat and ate, Freddie talked about how strange he found New York to be, abrasive yet kind and how diverse it was. He spoke with an eloquence and cadence in his speech that reminded Stark of the English sonnets he had to study at the University. Tony told him where the best sub and pizza shops were, which hotdog carts were most likely to give him food poisoning. Freddie talked about Dostoyevsky's works while Stark told him which libraries were the best for his tastes. Freddie asked about MIT and how it felt to run a major company, Tony delved into humorous stories and skipped over boring details of long meetings.

The music stopped suddenly, pitching them into complete silence. Freddie looked down at his now empty plate, the smile slipping from his mouth just a bit.

"Are you satisfied?" The waiter asked. At Tony's questioning looked, he added, "That I'm not your man."

"Depends. I still haven't checked the bedroom yet," Stark replied with a playful smirk.

Freddie laughed softly. "You are bold if a little reckless." He tilted his head, looking at the billionaire from the corner of his eye. "I mean, say I was this man. What would stop him from hurting or killing you?" He asked with genuine curiosity.

"Sex appeal," Tony answered easily. "What, you think Iron Man's all in the suit?"

Freddie held up his hands and shrugged, grinning at the look of wounded pride on the other's face. "I don't know. Is it?" He asked with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Tony asked jokingly, "You want to go a round? You and me, no suit."

"No suit?" Freddie glanced at the expensive tailored suit and dragged his eyes back up to meet Tony's gaze. The smile faded and he added coyly, "I think I can go more than one round."

The tip of Tony's tongue poked out from the corner of his mouth and narrowed his eyes as he stared at the other for a moment. "I'm not going to sleep with you."

Freddie's eyebrow rose in surprise. "Oh?"

"Yeah, I know you're disappointed but hear me out."

The waiter hummed and settled into his seat. "I'm listening."

"I want to see you again."

"Haven't you satisfied your initial investigation? Afraid I'm plotting world domination…again? Technically, it would be again if I were him. Answer me honestly, why on earth would you want to spend time with me? I'm just a waiter, my life is boring. You're a _billionaire_. You go on exotic trips and build energy sources."

"And I have dinner dates with rich, old guys that either want my money or want to stick their name next to mine." Tony shrugged halfheartedly. "So, you're not a lunatic bent on world domination, but I still had fun tonight. Without TV, I might add which is actually pretty surprising. Are you working tomorrow?"

"The lunch shift." Freddie paused with a doubtful look written across his face. "Are you sure that this is a good idea?"

"Here, I'll give you my card…again." Tony took his business card from his breast pocket and handed it to the other. "Try to hold onto it this time."

"I will."

"Good. And you'll call? Soon, I hope. I hate waiting."

"I suppose it's that time where we part ways." Freddie got to his feet. "I'll walk you to your car."

"I'm a big boy, I think I can handle the stairs all by myself." Tony paused in the doorway of the apartment with Freddie right behind him. "Thanks again. Goodnight, Freddie."

"Goodnight."

* * *

The bump key opened the old door as easily as it could, granting Tony access into Freddie's apartment. The building seemed far different during the day, but the same smell of cigarette smoke still lingered in the corners. But now there was the muffled sound of a dog barking, a television turned too loud, and the far off sound of a blaring car alarm. Tony glanced around and, finding the corridor empty, slipped inside. He wore plain jeans and a shirt, a small black bag slung over his shoulder to rest at his hip.

"Are you certain this is a good idea, Sir?" Jarvis slightly tinny voice asked through the tiny earpiece Stark wore. "This breaks a number of laws."

"It's just a little surveillance." Tony looked around the room, trying to determine where best to put his nearly invisible cameras and, as he settled on starting with the fire alarm, his phone belted out a segment of Black Sabbath's "Iron Man". He tapped on his phone and the sound was fed into his earpiece.

"Mr. Stark?" Freddie's voice sounded hesitant on the other end of the phone, and Tony could just imagine him in his uniform, brow furrowed in nervous anticipation.

With a look of concentration, Tony fixed the tiny camera to Freddie's fire alarm and made sure it was at a decent enough angle to get most of the room. "Tony, please. Unless you were looking for a different handsome, well-dressed Stark."

There was a quiet laugh on the other end. "Right, sorry. I've just had a break and thought I'd give you a call. You're not busy, are you?"

As he searched the sparse bedroom, Tony shook his head absentmindedly and responded, "No, just working on a side project. It hasn't even been twenty-four hours yet. Don't tell me you missed me already."

"Not quite," Freddie laughed. "I just wanted to give you a call."

Tony paused as he opted for a tiny microphone behind the dresser. "Listen, I have to go out of town for the rest of the week for a couple of meetings, but what are you doing next week?"

"Nothing. Why?"

"We can go out, grab breakfast or something."

"I'd like that." There was a beat. "I'm sorry, but I have to go. Um, good luck at your conference."

Still a bit taken aback by the Loki look-alike having an overwhelming need to apologize at nearly anything, Tony looked heavenward with a silent prayer for understanding and patience. "Did I tell you yet how _unfailingly_ yet excruciatingly nice you are?"

"Sorry?" Freddie responded hesitantly. "I know how much you hate it but, really, good luck with your meetings, and I'll see you again."

"Bye, Freddie." Tony hung up the phone and called Jarvis's name. "That should do it. Keep an eye on our Boy George. Let me know if he does anything _Loki_-ish."


	3. Chapter 3

It had been six weeks since Freddie's phone call, days passing by the Tony was too busy filling with plans for new suit designs, meetings and fundraisers. There was still a nagging sensation in the back of his mind that this was just another of Loki's tricks, but with Jarvis keeping a figurative eye on the look-alike, Tony wasn't overly worried. Still, when Pepper mentioned they had a dinner meeting at the same restaurant Freddie worked at, Tony hesitated only slightly when he promised he would go.

The billionaire drummed his fingers in his knee as he watched the world speed by outside his car window. He was only half listening as Pepper gave him the essentials of what he needed to know for the meeting. When they pulled up to the restaurant, he got out and opened her door without a word.

"Are you feeling alright?" She asked with worry lines creasing her brow. "Usually, you complain a lot more."

"As long as I don't have to talk to them," Tony replied simply with a small shrug.

Pepper blocked his path before he could make it to the door and gave him a hard stare, holding the business folder in the crook of her arm like a shield. "What did you do?"

Tony's eyes widened in surprised and was slack jawed as he returned her stare. "_What_?I didn't _do_ anything. What makes you…I've been nothing but a perfect angel, apart from hot wiring Rhodey's car and, to be fair, he knew it was coming."

"I know, that's how I know you did something."

"Can't we just go inside and get a drink before these lifeless suits show up?" Tony looked around with a look of almost disgust as if the others would suddenly appear.

"Not until you tell me what you did so I don't have to be blindsided when _I_ have to fix it."

Tony pursed his lips, gaze wandering as he tried to look innocent and failed. "I set up surveillance," he admitted quickly, like ripping a bandage.

Pepper took a calming breath before she asked, "On who?"

There was a beat of hesitation. "Freddie."

"Freddie? _Freddie_?" She said again, a spark coming to her eyes as she recalled the name. "You set up…what were you thinking, Tony? Are you insane?" She hissed under her breath, giving his arm a light slap for emphasis.

Tony looked comically horrified. "Ow! Why are you hitting me right now?!"

"You're such a child," she said under her breath. "First off, what you did is illegal and it's _weird_."

"Don't freak out. It's not what you think."

Pepper gave a sad shake of her head and looked heavenward. "God, you've finally lost it. I knew you spent to much time in the workshop. Did I miss something? Did you hit your head too hard? That's it, you damaged your brain."

"You're overreacting, I didn't damage my brain," Tony replied, trying not to roll his eyes. "I'm perfectly fine. It's just…hard to explain."

"You'd better try. Do you have any idea how creepy you sound right now?"

"Freddie might be Loki," he said quickly, voice rising slightly with impatience. "There, I said it. That's the reason I set up surveillance."

"Freddie might be Loki," Pepper repeated slowly and incredulously. "I'm going to call the doctor, ok? We'll set up an appointment early in the morning and get this all sorted out."

"Damn it, Pepper, I'm not crazy. I know what Loki looks like. Hell, he threw me out my own window so I think I got a good look at his face." Tony caught her eye and looked at her, begging her to trust him. "Freddie looks exactly like him. I mean clone invasion type of look alike. Besides, I'm not even watching him, Jarvis is."

She paused a moment, mouth pressed in a thin line as she simply stared expressionless. Finally, she took a breath and said calmly, "You're insane."

"Great, thanks." Tony pursed his lips, more than a little crestfallen.

"You spent the night with him," Pepper cried. "You are certifiably insane. I mean, you spend the night with him then just let him go? You have to tell Fury."

"I can't do that."

"What do you mean _you can't do that_? He could have killed you."

Stark spread his arms wide then put his hands to his chest. "But he didn't. Look, I'm still here, still breathing. Every chance in the world and he didn't. What if he's not Loki and SHIELD gets their hands on him? He'll be interrogated, held in some glass cell and if—and it's a big if—they believe him, he'll be put under constant surveillance. And it's not like SHIELD is subtle about it. Give me a little faith, Pep. I'm handling this, trust me."

"Fine, but I can't believe you didn't tell me this sooner." She turned on her heel and dismissed the rest of the conversation with a wave of her hand. "Let's go inside, I need a drink."

The restaurant was fairly quiet, not yet at the dinner hour and too early in the week to draw a large crowd. They were shown to a table almost immediately, but rather than take a seat, Tony sought out the manager to find out if Freddie was working. With a nod and a smile, the manager told him that the waiter was working back of house and gave the billionaire consent to go back.

As soon as Tony entered the kitchen, he saw the familiar tall, thin frame and close cropped black hair. Freddie had his back to the billionaire, instead facing a deep set sink piled with dishes. He had his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his weight shifted to his left to cant his hips. He was talking to a waitress, and Tony could just make out what they were saying over the clanging of pots and pans.

"Really, Tanya, I'm fine," Freddie said softly. "It's been nearly a week."

"That's not nearly enough time," the other waiter replied hotly, voice colored with frustration and worry. "Why don't you go home? Adam can get a few minutes off and take you."

"Please, I'd rather be here."

Tony cleared his throat loud enough for them to hear and said, "Hi, Freddie. Do you have a minute?"

Freddie spun on his heel and, with a sharp inhale of pain, doubled over and held a hand to his ribs. Now that Tony could see his face, he found it marred with splotches of purple bruises and a cut across his bottom lip.

"Jesus," Tony said in a breath as he took a step toward the other, attempting to support him.

Freddie waved away Tony and Tanya's help. "I'm fine." He slowly straightened again.

"_Fine_?" The billionaire repeated in disbelief. "What happened?"

Turning to his friend, Freddie asked, "Can you give us a minute?"

"Why don't you just go home? I'll cover for you."

"I'll only be a minute," he said more firmly.

She shook her head in disappointment, ponytail swinging as she walked away.

"Do you mind if we go outside to talk?" Freddie asked quietly with a hand still placed protectively over his ribs. "It's a bit loud in here."

Stark followed him out the back door to where two folding chairs had been set up beneath the harsh spotlight. The waiter gingerly eased himself onto one and took an uncomfortable breath. Stark stood in front of him, hands tucked into the pockets of his trousers while he took in the damage.

"I didn't think I'd speak to you again," Freddie said in a strained breath, a pained smile pulling at the corner of his mouth, "much less see you."

Tony looked away for a moment, shifting to look out at the parking lot before he turned back to the other. "Are you going to tell me what happened? You look like you went a round with Jack Johnson, and I don't mean the singer."

Taking too deep a breath, Freddie winced though he tried to hide it. "I'm sorry—"

"Don't apologize. I swear, if you apologize I might have to scream bloody murder." Tony said, his voice low in quiet anger not directed at the other. "Who did this to you?"

The waiter gave a one-armed shrug. "I don't know. My flat was…broken into a few days after we spoke. They took my wallet, broke my phone."

"That was over five weeks ago and these are newer. Just how many times was your apartment broken into?"

Running a battered hand through his hair, Freddie looked up at Tony dolefully. "Just the once. I was mugged a few nights ago. Unfortunately, they were a bit rougher this time."

"This is my fault," Tony muttered, moving to lean against the wall. "They probably thought…I don't know."

"Please, don't blame yourself," Freddie said almost pleadingly. "Some people will look for any excuse to hurt someone else. Really, it was probably bound to happen."

"You got checked out? Went to the police?"

"Yes."

"Well, what did they say?"

"They'd look into it."

"No, the doctor."

Freddie looked hesitant. "Well, I—they say I have a few cracked ribs, but that's it. It looks worse than it is."

Tony was silent for a moment, a feeling of anger and guilt rolling in his stomach. "You're friend was right; you shouldn't be here. You can't work like this."

"I'd really rather be here, if you understand me." The tips of the waiter's ear turned red with embarrassment as he stared at the ground.

"You can stay at with me," Tony said before he even thought about what he was saying. "Until you find somewhere else to live."

Freddie smiled despite his cut lip. "That's generous, but I couldn't do that."

"Do you have someone you can stay with?"

"No, but I couldn't do that. I wouldn't want to be any trouble. After all, you hardly know me."

Looking at Freddie's bruised and battered face, Tony was suddenly painfully reminded of a defeated Loki crawling his way up the stairs. But this wasn't a mad god staring up at him, and Tony felt a swell of guilt twist in his stomach. "Then I'm asking you to do this. People think I drop gold bricks or something wherever I go. I shouldn't have gone to your place like I did. I'm sorry. But it'll just be until you're better or you find somewhere else. You won't even have to see me."

The younger man nodded stiffly. "I'll take you up on your offer, and thank you. It really is too generous of you."

"It's nothing. I have to slip out of this meeting and then we can go."

Under Pepper's intense but discreet death stare, Tony shook hands with the two other businessmen who had arrived at during his talk with Freddie and polite removed himself from the meeting, leaving them in Pepper's more than capable hands. He turned his back with a sigh, knowing he was inviting more than just a mischievous god's look-alike into his home.


	4. Chapter 4

Tony drove them back to the Tower after Freddie asked to pick up his things in the morning. He had left their driver behind as Pepper's escort in some semblance of a peace offering, but he didn't dwell on the prospect of her wrath for too long. As they stopped beneath a red light, Tony saw Freddie shift uncomfortably in his seat and that his face had taken an ashen pallor. The streetlamps illuminated lines of distress.

"You alright?" Tony asked, dipping his head to get a better look at the waiter's face.

Freddie closed his eyes and put a hand to his forehead as his nostrils flared. "Sorry, I just feel a bit ill." He swallowed thickly, the other hand over his stomach.

Tony pulled over and cracked the windows open to let a cross breeze through. Freddie sighed in mild relief, and, after a moment, some color barring the bruises returned to his cheeks. He tried for a deep breath but thought better of it. An abashed expression crossed his face.

"Don't. Just don't." Tony sighed. He rubbed his forehead wearily as his jaw clenched in anger towards himself. "Every time you open your mouth, you got some damn apology. I'm sorry, ok? _Me_—I'm sorry."

Freddie looked genuinely perplexed. "This wasn't your fault."

"It sure as hell wasn't yours." Tony gave a soft growl of frustration as he buried his hands and sunk down in his seat. His hands went up to roughly rake back his hair while he murmured, "I'm an idiot." Because for all his paranoia and best intentions, someone had caught him going into the other man's apartment and likely thought Freddie was some sort of kept man. Now Freddie was sitting beside him looking like a human piñata.

There was the quiet click of the seatbelt being undone, and Freddie reached across to unfasten Tony before he pulled gently at his lapels.

"Come here, Tony," Freddie ordered, his voice soft and inviting. "I'm afraid there's no way I can come to you."

Tony shifted and leaned over the armrest, hesitating only for a second before he pressed his lips the Freddie's in a chaste kiss. For a split second, his brain could only think of Loki, and he expected cold lips, and when he delved his tongue between the other's lips, he thought he would taste a minted coolness. But Freddie's lips were soft and warm, and he tasted like black coffee and a hint of toast. The gentle hand that had ghosted over Tony's neck was softer than the one that had wrapped around his neck and thrown him from a window.

Freddie pulled back just a bit so there was only a paper thin distance between their lips. His fingers were still wound in Tony's hair.

"I think you're brilliant," he said quietly.

"I've had practice."

"I'm serious, Tony." Freddie gave a small, crooked smile.

And Tony liked the way his name sounded coming from between those lips, the sound of it rolling off his tongue. It didn't sound possessive or dangerous, and it didn't ask anything of him. It was like a late night whisper to a lover half asleep. So Tony kissed him again to the sound of a quiet laugh.

~GHGHGH~

Tony gave him one of the guest floors. The entire floor was roughly the size of Freddie's apartment building and complete with everything he needed.

Freddie looked around in muted amazement. "I'll, um, call a cab in the morning to pick up some of my clothes."

"I'll take you," Tony replied. "There should be clothes in the closet for now." He pointed to the bedroom where there was one of his many closets that held clothes he had never worn and never would. There were various sizes and cuts that made finding one Freddie's size easy enough.

"Come in," Freddie call as Tony came back to knock on the door of the bedroom.

The waiter's back was to the door when Stark entered. Vest and tie had been neatly placed on the corner of the bed. Freddie stood by the window with his hands in his pockets as he looked down at the city.

"You're on the top floor, aren't you?" He asked. "Everything seems so still from up here. Funny, it's almost as if….This man," he changed subjects suddenly, "the one you thought I was, who was he?"

Tony set down the down the clothes and joined him by the window, his heart giving an involuntary flutter of fear. He shrugged at the question, not relishing the prospect of talking about Loki to his doppelganger.

"He was a man," Tony finally answered. "Just a guy that was too full of himself, and too self-loathing at the same time."

"You sound like you knew him."

Tony shook his head. "No, not him. I doubt anyone really knew him."

"I don't…I don't remember the attack." Freddie hesitated. "If I tell you something, promise me you won't judge too quickly."

Tony's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Why?"

"It's just that I'm compared to this man, but I know I'm not him. I can't remember much outside of the past several months."

"I'm sorry, you what?" Tony took an instinctual step back, ready to call for backup at a second's notice.

"Don't do that," Freddie pleaded, looking devastated at Tony's reaction. "I don't remember much but I remember some things. And I'm sure I'd remember attacking all of New York City. Besides, I don't want to hurt anyone. It's just my luck this all happened." He pinched the bridge of his nose, forgetting the tender bruised skin and made a quiet noise of pain.

"And your name?"

"Freddie Page. A nurse gave it to me. Hester, that was her name. I woke up in the hospital. Coma, six days. They said someone found me just outside the city, skull fracture and blood loss." Freddie looked at Stark pleadingly, trying to make him understand. He kept his hands in his pockets, trying not to cause Tony to panic which the billionaire found ironic since the waiter's every movement was slow and stiff with the attack on his body. "But I remember I had a family, a sibling. It's like a movie that flickers in and out. I must have lived on a farm I think because I remember a great expanse of sky and…I'm flesh and blood and, unfortunately, fragile." He laid a hand on his stomach for emphasis.

Tony nodded once, slowly. "Yeah…follow me."

"Where?"

"Elevator."

Freddie didn't protest or ask another question. He was silent as Tony led the way to the Lab, looking around nervously at the sterile equipment and cold examination tables. He took a quick inhale at the sudden movement of machines that seemed to move of their own volition. His ribs screamed in protest at the action and he bit his lip hard to keep from crying out behind Tony.

"Can you sit down on the table?"

"You aren't going to saw me in half, are you?" Freddie asked in a strained voice, trying to talk shallow breaths. "I'm kind of attached to my body."

"No, I just want a blood sample and run a scan."

The waiter nodded. "Sounds fair. I don't suppose you do this to all your dates though."

"Only the lucky ones."

Freddie sat on the table patiently waiting as Tony pricked his thumb and smeared a droplet of blood on a tablet. There was the soft hum of machines as it ran the scan while Tony checked his computer.

"The hospital has a completed file that I can use to cross reference anything that sounds like it might be the real you." Tony hummed. "You have three cracked ribs."

"I thought you were scanning me for…"

"That was what the blood was for. I just wanted to know how bad it was." He bowed his head and massaged the back of his neck in a manifestation of guilt. "I'll get you a brace."

Freddie could only nod as the realization dawned on his that his vision was going grey around the edges, and at the movement the room spun madly. A cold sweat was beginning to break out. He wasn't getting enough air and his lungs felt squeezed and his shirt was suddenly too tight. Freddie began to unbutton his shirt in the hazy reasoning of his mind, his fingers stumbling through the process.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

Freddie blinked and he realized Tony was standing an arm's length away with a worried expression. He shook his hand.

"You have to take a deep breath," Tony ordered. "It's going to hurt like hell, but you're going to pass out if you don't."

Nodding once, Freddie latched onto Tony's forearms and slowly took in a breath. Tears appeared in the corner of his eyes.

"Let me just see how bad it is then I can get you something for the pain."

Tony only lifted the shirt halfway before his heart leapt to his throat at the sight of the damage. "_Geez_" He said in a breath laced with shock.

Bruises spread like blossoming flowers across a swollen, disfigured ribcage. Boot heels were marked in angry red outlines that broke skin and more bruises like ink stains peeked from beneath the waist of his pants. His arms were like a map, each discoloration a different region.

"You said you were fine," Tony nearly snapped. "_This_ is what you call fine?"

Freddie's ears reddened. "Don't worry about me."

But Tony didn't really hear him. His blood was pounding like a war drum in his ears and his mind was racing. He swore under his breath, ghosting his fingers over the mottled skin as he examined every bare inch. Freddie let it go on for a second before grabbed Tony's hand, forcing him to stop.

"Please, Tony, stop. There's no point in worrying about it."

Tony pressed his lips in a tight line, eyes glaring as if that could somehow erase the damage.

"You should be mad at me," Tony said quietly. His jaw worked with seething rage. He wished for a moment Freddie was Loki, that he had all the trickster's strength and magical powers and that he wouldn't have to be reminded just how fragile humans are.

Freddie sighed. "Why? What good would that do?" He looked at the billionaire with a crooked smile. "Iron Man," Freddie mused, eyes narrowed as he shifted through thoughts. "You can't save everyone, Tony. And I'll heal. Bruises and broken bones only last so long." He inhaled looking as if he were about to say something else but seemed to think better of it.

"What?" Tony asked.

"Nothing. I just…" Freddie cleared his throat. He looked away for a moment before he took a breath and met Tony's eye. "I suppose I should get some sleep. If my being here makes you uncomfortable—"

"I _want _you to stay, Tony interrupted. "Nothing's changed."

"But it has though," Freddie said sadly yet with a smile. "There was quite the possibility you would think of me as my own man, that I was just Freddie Page. Now, you'll always think that I could be _him_. It's alright. It would have been unfair to keep it from you." He got down from the exam table with a wince. "Goodnight, Tony."


End file.
